


Keep Going

by solomonara



Series: Chaos Theory [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Anxiety, Character Study, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Healing, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Spring Cleaning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:47:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22206580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solomonara/pseuds/solomonara
Summary: Jason visits his old room for the first time since coming back home.
Series: Chaos Theory [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/970407
Comments: 14
Kudos: 149





	Keep Going

**Author's Note:**

> [DragonSorceress22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonSorceress22) beta'd this and I am ever grateful <3

Jason had been making lists. He had a list of things he did not like, and a list of things he liked, and a list of goals.

It was Dinah's suggestion. Jason had started seeing her just a few weeks ago, and it was every bit as terrible as he'd dreaded, but it was a good kind of pain. He thought.

_Dislike: Involuntary crying during therapy sessions_

_Like: Getting to talk about this shit but not having to do it with someone I have to see every day_

The idea was that listing likes and dislikes would help Jason pay more attention to the positive things, and to things that made him uncomfortable so that he would stop trying to power through them and end up breaking down over whatever minor thing finally made his pile of repression too high for stability.

The list of goals was more obvious: give him something to work toward, a way to feel productive.

_Today's goal: Help Alfred with the spring cleaning_

Spring cleaning mostly involved airing out the rooms that were rarely used: changing out the linens so that they'd be fresh in case an army of unexpected guests descended, opening the windows for a bit, dusting anything that wasn't covered by a dust sheet, and a bit of vacuuming.

Jason usually handled wrestling the new sheets onto the beds while Alfred did the rest. Alfred claimed to be relieved to have a younger, stronger body to handle the heavy mattresses in their deep bed frames, and that might have been true, but Jason knew Alfred was helping him as much as he was helping Alfred.

_Dislike: Being alone_

It had never used to be a problem. Jason had _enjoyed_ alone time, once upon a time. Now, he had realized slowly, it made him edgy. It made his ears prick for any sound, made his brain kick into overdrive interpreting those sounds, made him note exit paths again and again and look for rooms with only one entrance to watch until he got too unnerved and found a wide open space until he got too unnerved by having nowhere to hide and around and around…

So he helped Alfred. There was always something to do, even if that something was taking a break and sitting in the library reading while Alfred listened to a cricket match.

The others were around too, of course, but they were so often down in the Cave.

_Dislike: Caves_

Short periods of time were fine. He thought that maybe this was one of those things he could build up a tolerance for by replacing the bad associations with good ones, and the Batcave was pretty different from the cell he'd been kept in for three years.

"Mother _fucker_ ," Jason swore softly as the sheet snapped off the opposite corner of the bed he was working on. Alfred sighed audibly and Jason winced. "I mean. Darn."

"Indeed," Alfred said wryly.

_Like: Alfred's sense of humor. He's not as posh as he pretends to be._

"Okay, got it," Jason said, finally tucking the recalcitrant sheet firmly into place. "What's next?"

"Well, that's all the rooms that needed airing. I do usually take care of your old room, but you don't have to help me with that."

_Like: Alfred didn't even hesitate before mentioning my old room. Like there's nothing to be afraid of._

He hadn't so much as touched the doorknob in the four months he'd been back. Every time he walked past it he paused a little, his step stuttering. These days it was barely a glitch in his stride, a glance at the solid oak out of habit before moving along.

Bruce had kept his room just the same, Alfred had told him.

They could do whatever he wanted with it, including remake it as a completely anonymous guest room if that was what he chose, all without him ever having to see a speck of it, Bruce had told him.

_No one_ was allowed in there, Tim had told him. (Tim had snuck in anyway, Tim had _not_ told him, but he was Robin and Jason knew what type of personality that entailed. He'd be a little disappointed if Tim _hadn't_ snuck in.)

Do it in the middle of the night so you can have a private moment, Babs had told him. Jason had thought that was pretty good advice, but…

_Major dislike: Darkness_

Night tended to come with a lot of it, and sneaking sort of required being alone in it.

Damian would go with him, if he asked. Damian didn't really get what the big deal was.

And, well, maybe he was right.

"No, I'll help," Jason said.

Alfred didn't even blink, barely paused, just nodded and walked down the hall, Jason behind him.

The door opened smoothly. Alfred would never allow a squeaky hinge or a sticky doorframe in his house, but still, Jason had almost expected it. He'd also expected the room to look abandoned, to smell musty and atrophied.

Instead it was just a room. Dark, yes, until Alfred opened the curtains. And yes, it did smell a little stale, but just like undisturbed air. Not like a cellar. Or a cave.

Alfred pushed the window open and the fresh, wet scent of growing things drifted in. "I've read that sunshine actually does make a difference in freshening up a room," Alfred said, moving to the other window to do the same. Jason just stood in the middle of the room, eyes closed, breathing. Alfred kept his eyes on his work. "Something about it killing micro-organisms. And of course that would be why line-dried linens are always so much nicer than tumble-dried."

The room had been left exactly as Jason had left it when he'd gone out on patrol three years ago. Alfred gently moved aside a pile of text books, a picture frame, an iPod and dusted underneath them. He replaced them exactly as they'd been, chattering all the while about different theories of housekeeping until Jason felt like he could open his eyes.

The Jason who had lived in this room hadn't been afraid of anything. He'd been whole, full of energy, able to do anything he wanted without having to think it through a thousand times from different angles, without planning his days so that he wouldn't be caught alone or in the dark, or just so that he wouldn't be suddenly thrown into a bad headspace by something unexpected.

_Dislike: Nostalgia about my own fucking self_.

It wasn't true. Hindsight wore rose-colored glasses, and he knew that. Past-Jason had had issues. He'd worried about abandonment, about having readily-available food just in case, about being good enough for Bruce. Those problems had been sort of folded into his fun, new variety of anxiety and PTSD but they'd always been there in one form or another. He'd lived this long (more or less). He could handle it.

"You do this every year?" Jason asked. He'd interrupted Alfred in the middle of a statement about the ridiculousness of the baking-soda-and-vinegar cleaning trend, but he didn't notice and Alfred didn't seem to mind.

"It wouldn't do to have the dust cake up."

"Yeah, but putting everything back… it would be easier to just…" He straightened the book on the nightstand so that the spine aligned with the edge. He stared at it for a while. "Bruce went a little crazy, huh?"

"Are you surprised?" Alfred asked.

"I guess not. Sorry you had to deal with this."

"He did not ask me to. I did it for myself. I missed you."

"Oh." Jason picked up the book and ran his thumb down the pages, _thrip-thrip-thrip-thrip._ It was a paperback, the cover mostly orange, fading into blues that gave the suggestion of water at the bottom. _The Wide Sargasso Sea_. It was a tiny thing. He'd thought he'd finish it in a day, but it had proven more difficult than its thickness suggested. He'd planned to get to the end that night after patrol, and then start googling so he could actually _understand_ what he'd read.

_Goal: Finish_ The Wide Sargasso Sea.

He'd made the goal in his mind before consciously acknowledging that it was something he wanted to do and shook his head. Had anything in his past three years' experience equipped him to understand a work of transformative post-colonial fiction any better than he had when he was seventeen?

_Goal: Go back to school._

He'd been meaning to bring it up to Bruce. School was something he could do. He'd never finished his senior year of high school, but he thought he could study for the GED and then head straight to college, if he was good enough. Day classes, surrounded by other students, staying in touch with the world. It was appealing.

"Well," Alfred said, dusting off his hands. "That's about all that need be done. Shall we close it up again?"

Jason looked around at his old furniture, his old gym shoes kicked under the desk, his old games and books shelved mostly neatly but a little haphazardly if they were often-used favorites. He thought of the room he'd been living in for the months since he'd been back, how it slowly had gone from standard guest room to _his_ room, with his current reading material accumulating on the night stand and clothes left draped on chairs.

He frowned and went to the desk chair where a threadbare, soft-from-wear red hoodie was draped. It had been his favorite, once.

"Who ever heard of a museum in the middle of a house," he said. "Let's clear it out."

"We have some boxes in the attic," Alfred said. "I'll fetch them. We can sort through your things and store what's not needed, or donate it."

"I can take care of it," Jason said. "Maybe Damian will help." It would be good for him to see, to understand who Jason had been before, and what he'd lost— no. What he'd grown into. Maybe then he'd understand why Jason kept refusing to go out with the others on patrol, why he would never become Damian's sworn bodyguard as Talia had planned.

_Dislike: ~~Disappointing people~~ People expecting things of me I can't and shouldn't have to give_

Alfred nodded. "Remember, it needn't be done all in a day. You can take your time," he said.

_Like_ : _People respecting my healing process_

_Like: Making progress_

_Like: Constructive evaluation of my own capabilities_

"I know, Alf. And I will." Jason slung the hoodie over his arm and tucked _The Wide Sargasso Sea_ into his back pocket. "It just so happens that the time is now."

_Goal: Keep going._


End file.
